by Jayne Denker
“Wow.” He settled next to her on the mattress, head propped on his hand. “I think I’ll just lie here and listen to you talk all night.”
Jordan knocked his hand free, and he collapsed onto his back. In a flash she straddled him, stretching forward so her breasts grazed his chest, grasping his wrists and pushing his hands up over his head. “Cut it out.”
“Ah, you know you’re going to miss me.”
Will was grinning smugly, and she started to laugh as well. Until she froze, realization crashing in on her. Even her breath stopped for a minute.
“Jordan?”
“Crap,” she hissed.
“There are a hundred different, better responses at this moment.”
“Sorry, I just . . .”
“What?” he prompted, lifting his head and frowning worriedly as he studied her face.
“I . . . I . . . it’s just . . . I am going to miss you.”
“Well, good, right? I mean, in spite of the fact that you look a little green.”
“No. Not good.”
Will rolled his eyes and let his head drop back onto the bed. “Jordan. . .” At least he was smiling.
She knew she shouldn’t freak out. They’d been over this a thousand times by now. Rules. They had rules. Their rules dictated that right about now she should explain herself, tell him what was going on inside her head, instead of running away or shutting down. She knew that. Use your words, Jordan, she commanded herself as her stomach churned.
Finally she fought out, “Of course it’s good. It’s just . . .”
“I get it. You’re getting attached!”
He said it eagerly. Joyfully, even. Okay, that was what was going to tip her over the edge into freak-out territory.
Jordan buried her face in his chest. Her roiling insides lurched, paused, went from spinning counterclockwise to clockwise.
“Hey,” he said softly, stroking the back of her head. “Come on. I think it’s great.”
“Yeah, well, you would,” she muttered into his undershirt.
“I want you to be attached.”
She could feel the rumble of his voice against her forehead. It was soothing, like Fred’s purring. With a sigh, Jordan lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest, to look him in the eye. “Because you are.”
“I am. In fact, I’m a few steps ahead of you—”
“Don’t say ‘as always.’”
“Because,” he persisted gently, refusing to be sidetracked, as he pulled her up to lie beside him, “I’m more than attached. I—”
“You’re going to miss me too? Great. I mean, I’d hope so!”
The words collided with one another, a verbal hash, as they tumbled out of her mouth. Only when Will paused, dark eyebrows raised in surprise, did she realize that she’d cut him off and spoken for him because she was terrified of what he might say next. He wasn’t going to say he loved her, was he? He wouldn’t dare. Not now. Not so soon.
Not ever.
Right?
She tensed up, wondering how he was going to react, but he only curled his arm around her, gave her a shoulder squeeze.
“Yeah,” he whispered with a soft laugh, kissing her forehead tenderly. “I’m going to miss you too.”
In the end, Will was only able to talk Summer down to one overnight instead of two, but Jordan figured she could survive one night in a cabin. She was tougher than any weather, tougher than those teenagers, tougher than just about anything out there. The one thing that gave her pause was she wouldn’t see Will for around thirty-six hours.
She could not even believe she was counting the hours.
This was bad. Really bad. Really, really bad. When was the last time she’d felt this way about a guy? She did some mental calculations and came up with the answer pretty quickly: never.
After she’d kneecapped Will’s possible attempt to tell her he loved her, Jordan had had some time to reflect . . . and she realized that although she didn’t say those three little words, she was thinking them. She was thinking them. No wonder she’d stopped Will from uttering those same words. They’d hit too close to home. If he said them to her, was she supposed to say them back? What if she couldn’t? Even if she wanted to, what if the words just didn’t come? What would happen then?
Oh, she was in it now. She didn’t know what, but it was something very, very messy.
She needed to think. She wanted time to sort out all her feelings, but she wasn’t sure how much time she was going to get to herself while she was trudging through knee-deep snow with five complaining teenagers and an overly ambitious counselor, fending off bears and wolves.
Wait. Were there bears and wolves in the wilderness area? Well, duh—it was a wilderness area. Then again, she probably didn’t have to worry. The wildlife wouldn’t be able to get to her through all the layers of gear Will had scrounged up from relatives, friends, relatives’ friends, and friends’ relatives. She looked like a giant camo-colored lump. Wasn’t there fashionable winter gear available? She hadn’t imagined it, she was sure. She’d seen footage of women climbing Everest wearing candy-colored ski jackets and brightly patterned Himalayan wool hats and mittens. But this stuff looked (and smelled) like mossy mud. However, she’d rather look (and smell) dumpy than die of exposure, so lump she was going to be.
She pulled on the hat with earflaps—and not the cute kind, with animal ears on top—and it dipped over her eyes. The mittens were stained and way too big for her. The boots were so loose they clomped when she walked, even with three pairs of socks on (yes, three). The giant ski pants, worn over her jeans, swished until the sound made her want to tear her hair out. And the jacket had to be Will’s, or one of his brothers’—likely Gabe’s, judging by how far the cuffs went past her fingers. What, Katy couldn’t part with something of hers for a day and a half?
Summer pulled up in the church van next to Jordan’s car; Jordan could make out a bunch of sullen girls in the back—no, wait, Sydney was looking out the window excitedly, as if she’d never seen snow and trees before. Hell, the park was just a couple of hours from town. What was the big deal? Hadn’t these girls spent time in these woods when they were little, hiking, camping, hunting? Then Jordan realized the answer was probably no. None of them had that sort of home life. Family outings were pretty far down the to-do list when the parents were preoccupied with putting food on the table. Also shortchanged: making sure their kids stayed out of trouble. Here were five prime examples, in trouble for one reason or another, from shoplifting (hello, personal flashbacks) to diagnosed-too-late (and undertreated) ADHD, to suspected eating disorders. What did it get them? Membership in this bring-’em-back-from-the-brink teen program and, apparently, a quick lesson in hypothermia. What a way to go.
Jordan met them at the back of the van, as Summer opened the doors and started handing out the girls’ backpacks. They weren’t designed for camping; in fact, they were the same ones they used for school. After that came several drawstring bags filled with food and supplies, which Summer put on a red plastic toboggan.
“I figured we could take turns pulling it,” Summer said.
This was met with the expected shouts of who got to ride in it, and Summer had to flatly state that nobody and nothing was riding in this but the food. After the food was unloaded at the cabin, they could use it to collect firewood. But no free rides.
“Skylar, you take it first.”
Summer tapped Blue on purpose, Jordan knew, to try to get the girl to put her phone down. Otherwise Blue would likely walk straight into a tree. It was a boy, of course. Blue hadn’t told her about him, but Danielle couldn’t hold it in. She went on and on about Blue’s hot older man until Blue punched her in the arm to get her to stop. Ah, young love and all that crap, Jordan thought—some sixteen-year-old, maybe seventeen, with a beat-up car and a face full of zits, occupying all of Blue’s time and attention. She wondered what kind of plans they’d had to reschedule because of this camping trip. An all-night horror movie binge in
his basement rec room, underage drinking party out by the railroad tracks, marathon gaming session at a friend’s house . . . the possibilities were endless.
Jordan hid her grin and pulled her own backpack on, then bent to tug her snow pants down over her boots. Mistake. The backpack slid forward along her neck and knocked her hat into the snow. The girls thought it was hysterical.
“Yeah, yeah,” she groused, scooping up the hat, brushing off the snow, and pulling it back onto her head. “Get marching.”
Summer had said it was five miles to the cabin from the trailhead. The first stretch was a logging road, wide and clear to let the trucks through. Without any overhanging trees to keep the snow at bay, it also was completely buried. The girls spread out across the road, Blue reluctantly dragging the toboggan in fits and starts while she grasped her phone with her other hand. Summer and Jordan brought up the rear.
“That phone needs to die a horrible death,” Summer murmured, pointedly looking anywhere but at Blue.
“She’s not any more excessive than any other person with a phone these days.”
“She’s not present if she’s always distracted by—”
“A guy? Don’t we all do that, whether it’s a good distraction or a bad one?”
“Looks like Will’s being a good distraction for you.”
It startled her a little when she realized her first thought was, He’s not a distraction; he’s a main focus. Before she could psychoanalyze herself, Destiny came to an abrupt halt up ahead and dropped to her knees in the snow with a cry.
“What’s wrong? Destiny!” Summer called immediately.
“I can’t!”
“Are you hurt? Hang on.”
Summer urgently struggled through the deep snow to reach Destiny, and Jordan followed. Before they got close, the girl shouted, “This is so boring! And I’m tired! Can we go home now?”
The social worker sighed heavily and stopped where she was. “Dammit,” she muttered, just low enough for only Jordan to hear. “Freakin’ drama queens.”
Jordan started laughing, and eventually Summer did as well. “Teenagers,” Jordan said. “They need three things to live: Doritos, air, and drama.”
“Four things: cell service too.” To Destiny, Summer called, “Not much farther now. Then we’ll build a fire so you can dry those jeans you just got soaking wet.”
Once they got under the trees, the snow wasn’t as deep, and they made faster progress. There was less grouchiness all around, although Blue still refused to acknowledge anything outside the dimensions of her phone screen. They reached the cabin at dusk; the girls thought it was pretty cool, and only Grace grumbled about having to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag.
“We need firewood . . .” Summer ventured.
Destiny and Grace plopped on the ratty sofa in front of the fireplace and put their feet up on the rustic (garage sale reject) coffee table with people’s initials carved into the chipped veneer.
“Not it,” Destiny stated flatly, and Grace nodded in agreement.
“Then you get to make dinner.”
“Fine.”
“Okay. Skylar, Danielle, Sydney, you up for firewood detail?”
Sydney looked up from inspecting a few rodent-gnawed paperbacks on a low shelf in the corner. “Sure. But I’m not pulling the sled.”
“I will. Let’s just go,” Blue said, zipping her coat back up—an awkward motion, as she still had her phone in her hand.
“How about leaving that here?” Summer suggested, but Blue just snorted incredulously and stuck it in her pocket.
Once they slammed out of the cabin, Jordan dug out their toilet paper supply and her phone—for the flashlight app, of course—and headed for the outhouse.
“Hey.”
“Hi! How’s it going out there?” Will asked cheerfully.
“This outhouse smells. How can it smell in the middle of winter?”
“I dunno. Maybe the bears use it when there aren’t many humans around.”
“Do not even joke.”
“Wait. Are you calling me while you’re—?”
“I’m done! Damn your delicate constitution anyway.”
A pause. “I miss you.”
“That warms the cockles of my frozen heart.” But she meant it.
“I thought it was your frozen tush.”
“Probably. Can’t differentiate all my frozen parts anymore.”
“Everything all right so far?”
Jordan sighed. “I guess. The girls are bitching a lot, but when don’t they? They just found new things to bitch about, so . . . win?”
“Well, enjoy your overnight. It’s snowing again, isn’t it?”
“Just started.”
“Should be a few more inches tonight, but nothing to trap you there.”
“Again, I do not approve of your sense of humor.”
“Stay warm.”
“Show Fred some love, okay?”
“I always do.”
When Jordan clicked off and came out of the smelly wooden structure, she spotted the girls in the distance, the red toboggan at their feet half-full of wood. And they were arguing. Of course. She wondered if she should go break it up or let them work it out for themselves, but then Sydney spotted her and trudged over.
“Need the outhouse?”
“Fancy word for a wooden box,” the girl said, looking it up and down suspiciously.
“Here,” Jordan said, holding out the toilet paper roll. “You’ll need this.”
“Um . . . Jordan?”
“Syd?”
“Can you . . . I don’t know . . . talk to Skylar? She’s getting kind of weird.”
“ ‘Getting’? ‘Kind of’?”
The girl half-smiled.
“Is this about the boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder apprehensively, probably expecting Blue to come up and punch her in the head for telling on her. “She keeps saying she’s going to take off with him. Leave home for good, you know?”
“Well, that would be stupid.”
“I keep trying to tell her that, but she won’t listen. Can you . . . ?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” At Syd’s stricken look, she amended it to, “Yeah, I’ll talk to her now, okay? Don’t worry.”
With a grateful smile, Sydney ran back to the cabin, leaving her with Blue and Danielle. When she got to them, Danielle was looking sullen and bored, and Blue was texting again.
“That’s all you’ve got?” Jordan asked disdainfully, looking at the sad pile of branches on the sled.
“It’s enough, isn’t it?”
“For about five minutes, yeah.” She knew that much—from her drinking parties masquerading as bonfires, not camping, of course. But a fire was a fire. “You don’t have any logs. Danielle, take these back to the cabin. Blue, grab the sled and let’s go find some big stuff.”
Blue rolled her eyes but complied, shining her flashlight app on the track ahead of them, illuminating the crystalline snow that was falling fairly heavily now. Jordan made a mental note not to lose sight of the cabin; she had no idea how to use the compass app on her phone.
“Your boyfriend sure texts a lot,” she commented casually, picking up a windfall limb and stepping on it to break it in half. “You guys serious?”
Blue shrugged. “I guess.”
“How serious?”
“Look, if you’re going to tell me a story about when a man and a woman really love each other . . .”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I figure you’re pretty well past that. You need information, you’ll ask, right?” She paused. “Right?” Blue finally nodded. “I heard you’re thinking of, you know, making a fresh start with this guy.”
“Oh my God, Sydney is so dead—”
“Leave her alone. She’s concerned.”
“Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. Dylan’s a good guy, and I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m sur
e you do.”
“Hey, he loves me.”
“I’m sure he does.”
“Can you please take me seriously for one minute!”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not. You’re being all sarcastic, when you don’t know anything. He loves me,” she repeated. Which was telling, Jordan thought. If she was more confident, she wouldn’t need to repeat it.
“Do you love him?”
Suddenly Blue lost a good chunk of her bluster. “Sure.”
“Convincing. Look, just . . . don’t go all crazy, okay? There’s no rush.” Jordan moaned inwardly. Oh God, I sound like an old fart. “Make sure.” And that was no better.
“I am sure,” Blue replied evenly.
“I’m supposed to tell you not to waste your life.”
“I know.”
“I’ve wasted a lot of mine. I’d hate to see you do the same thing.”
“Was it over a guy?”
“No, not a guy.”
“Then how do you know anything about doing something for love?”
Jordan sighed wearily. “Blue . . .”
“My name is Skylar. And taking me bowling doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”
“Except you suck at bowling.”
“So do you.”
“Touché.”
“And you don’t know anything about Dylan, either.”
“So it’s true love?”
She watched Blue try not to hesitate. She almost made it. “Yeah.”
“Can’t argue with that, then. Just keep in mind you’re way underage. There are legal consequences.”
“Nobody’s going to want me back.”
Blue wasn’t saying it for effect; she just stated it as an incontrovertible fact.
Jordan decided to call her bluff. “Okay, then. Mazel tov. I hope you’ll be deliriously happy together. Can you at least help me get some more wood before you go?”
“Jordan. Hey, Jordan.”
Her nose was cold. The rest of her was warm, thanks to the sleeping bag Will had lent her, but her nose was really icy. And her shoulder hurt. Stupid wood floor. She should have claimed the couch, but Summer said it wasn’t fair for one person to sleep on it while everybody else was on the floor, so it was off limits. Jordan could have snagged it in the middle of the night, though, if she hadn’t cared what Summer and the girls thought. Somebody was shaking her again.
